


Withdrawal's a B****

by AnotherWorld3111



Series: Omega Dean Destiel Codas [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s08e07 A Little Slice of Kevin, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omega Dean Winchester, Smut, The defaults, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, a/b/o dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 00:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14177010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: Castiel comes back from Purgatory, and Dean's thrown into his heat.





	Withdrawal's a B****

**Author's Note:**

> I promised tumblr user @deanwinbean this, and so here I deliver

   “So, we going to Rome? Wouldn't be too shabby.” A momentary smile graces Dean’s lips when he hears Sam huff in amusement, before it’s rubbed away with the towel. He’s barely taken the towel away from himself before he feels sweat pool at the base of his neck again, and he absently wipes it away, ignoring the impulse to duck himself back under water. He straightens, and his heart freezes as Dean glances at his reflection. He can hardly bring himself to dare hope that when he turns around, it won’t be a hallucination...

   The son of a bitch is really there. 

   “Hello, Dean.

oOo

   He disappeared into the bathroom without so much as a “by your leave,” his shoulders brushing against Dean’s as he passes by him. Dean’s stomach curls in on itself, his mind bracing for the moment he inevitably gets rejected so that he can get thrown into another slump of despair again. But his body long to reach out, to meld him against Cas and never let go. 

   Cas is already gone before Dean can even straighten his thoughts and figure out what to do with them, much less his urges. 

   “Dean?”

   Oh, right. Sammy’s with him. Honestly, a year with Cas and no Sam made his mind have to rewire itself to associate the fact that they’ll probably be in the space again from now on. 

   “Huh?”

   “You all right?”

   No. He really wasn’t.

   And he tells Sam, god help him, he can’t help but pour his worries on his brother, body feeling uncomfortably hot all over with Cas’s arrival, making his skin itch and making him ready to jump out of it, pounce on something and demand from answers. And when Cas comes out, his mind is fizzing, wires sparking as they go on overdrive, trying to figure out the situation that still doesn’t make any sense.

   Until the sight fully registers. 

   Cas is back in his suit and tie. It’s under that damn trenchcoat of his, and it’s all clean, everything. Dean’s eyes go up, from the shoes to the pants to that coat to the towel he’s wiping his hands off with to the tie before meeting his eyes, and he dimly registers Cas’s clean shaven face. Washed off of the grime, there’s nothing stopping the scent of ozone and fresh air from emanating from Cas like it hasn’t in months. It attacks Dean’s senses directly, and suddenly, the heat pooling in his guts make a lot more sense.

   “Better?” He spreads his arms wide, towel bunched up in a ball in one hand, silently asking for their opinion. The smile on his face grows when Sam smiles at him, but when Sam turns to look at Dean, the air in the room abruptly becomes so very charged, as a second later, realization strikes Sam first, with Cas not too far off behind.

   The few remaining brain cells that are still online are what prompts Dean into reaching into his pockets, coming back out with a key, and harshly sliding it across the table to his brother. 

   “Sam. Go take a drive. Now.”

   Sam opens his mouth, as if to protest, before clearly thinking better of it, and slams his mouth shut. Clearing his throat, he pushes his chair back, grabbing the keys, and though Dean doesn’t meet his eyes, or look anywhere remotely in his direction, too busy staring at Cas, he knows for a fact that his brother is glaring at him as he gathers his stuff. 

   “Just... stay off my bed. Okay?”

   He doesn’t get much of an answer except for an apologetic, yet acknowledging glance from Cas, before he’s out of the door, slamming it behind him. 

   After that, it’s just the two of them. 

   “I... you’re in heat.” Cas says, ever the observant. Dean raised his eyebrows skeptically, but apart from that, he doesn’t move from his chair. He resolutely ignores the slick pooling under him, smearing all over with him still sitting, before trickling down his legs, and that’s what makes Dean pushing himself up to stand on unsteady legs. 

   “You weren’t here.”

   And damn, if that doesn’t make Cas look guilted than a puppy after knocking over grandma’s urn, even without Dean needing to elaborate. “I’m sorry—“

   “No!” Dean takes a step forward, and his knees buckle. He could have stayed upright, he would have, but Cas rushes forward anyway, holding himself up before he so much as lists forward an inch. “You were gone and I—“ he grabs on to the lapels of that trenchcoat, pulling the owner of it closer, the owner he hadn’t seen in _months_ , and suddenly the amount of time makes itself all the more known in Dean’s heart. And groin _._ “I missed you so much.” It’s just a whisper, but it’s what damns Dean. He curls up, resting his forehead on Cas’s shoulders, not letting go of that damn coat, closing his eyes, as if that would make it as if he never uttered those words, and inhales a deep lungful of Cas’s scent. 

   “Oh, Dean.” His voice is so close to Dean’s ear, the puff of air landing on his skin tantalizing, taunting him into baring his neck. His fingers tighten their grip when all Cas does is lay a kiss under his ear. 

   “Fuck me.” 

   His words have Cas tensing, before just as quickly carefully relaxing. He pulls back to try and look at Dean - tries, because Dean won’t look at him. So he leans forward, and presses his lips to Dean’s. 

   Dean’s eyes fly open, but then slide shut anyway, a hand reaching up to comb its fingers through Cas’s hair, incrementally pulling him just that bit closer. A gasp escapes him, leaving his mouth open to Cas’s plundering, and he takes it, pushing his tongue in, rubbing at Dean’s before abruptly pulling back, leaving Dean to feel momentarily bereft. Disoriented, he opens his eyes, meeting Cas’s twinkling blue ones. A small smile quirks the corner of his lips, and a finger comes up to stroke the side of Dean’s face. 

   “I’m not gonna fuck you.” Before his stomach has even reached his ankles, Cas goes on. “I’m going to make love to you.”

   And yeah. His stomach abandoned its journey, because his heart is too busy with its own, trying to make its way out of Dean’s throat. 

   For the life of him, he can’t have said anything even if he wants too. Which would have been fine, if it weren’t for the fact that the next second, Cas is lifting Dean up, causing him to wrap his legs around Cas’s waist. He holds back another gasp of pleasure, hiding his face in Cas’s neck as he fights to try not think of how long it‘s been since Cas carried him so effortlessly like this. Relying on his senses, he tracks Cas walking around the room to stand in front of a bed, before he‘s carefully lowered onto it, Cas climbing up a little so that Dean doesn’t have to let go of his neck. 

   Mouthing at the juncture between Cas’s neck and shoulder, right where a scent gland is, he laps up the sweat, inner omega satiating with each lick bringing in more of everything that‘s Cas. Blindly, he lets Cas shuffle him out of his pants, letting go long enough to slip off both shirts at once before he‘s wrapping his arms around him again. This time, however, he kisses his jawline, slowly moving up to the corner of his lips. When Cas tilts his head, he meets Dean’s lips straight on, and then they‘re melting against each other, the world slipping away and all coming down to Cas’s lips against his, Cas’s hands on his waist, Cas’s cock rutting against his own. 

   His legs widen of their own accord, letting Cas settle further down, his cock brushing against his balls, before agonizingly rubbing against his hole. Dean’s hips jerk up before he knows it, and a whimper makes him bury his head in Cas’s shoulder again from embarrassment. The content satisfaction radiating from Cas does nothing to appease him, but the rumbling that starts to vibrate Cas’s chest when he strokes Dean’s sides repeatedly had Dean pausing. He practically holds his breath as he takes in the sound that he‘s been stripped of from hearing for far too long. 

   But then Cas tweaks a nipple, and he loses his train of thought. The action, and their position, is like Pavlov’s reaction. Dean’s legs wind up around Cas’s waist, and it doesn’t take long after that for Cas to get to the main show. Pushing inside, they both freeze for a few, long tenuous seconds, staring into each other eyes, not even aware of the act that they’re practically panting into each other’s mouth. The feeling of Cas inside him, and on top of him, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of Dean’s head, therefor trapping him... with Cas pretty much everywhere, it’s like a roadblock Dean hasn’t even been aware that existed within him suddenly explodes into a million pieces. Warmth floods inside him, his muscles clench, slick pools out of him and under, and the cold air against their balls has Cas reacting, and he starts thrusting into Dean, gentle at first, but increasing speed as they go on. It doesn’t take long for him to knot Dean, fingernails lashing out against Cas’s back. It’s something they both won’t mind; the both of them are too smug and satisfied with the fact that Dean’s essentially marking him just as much as Cas ever will. 

   When he comes, Dean let’s out a yell, tightening every muscle in his body, letting Cas suck at his scent glad between his neck and shoulder, and Cas’s body undulates as he comes inside of Dean, marking him in a way that Dean has gotten addicted to. Withdrawal’s a bitch, and something he doesn’t wanna go through, not if he has a say in it. 

   Minutes, maybe an hour later, they’re finally settled under the comforter. Out of the corner of his eye, just before his lids close and drag him to sleep until his next round hits, he notices Cas’s tie. It’s still around Cas’s neck, but now its noticeably more wrinkled and soiled again, this time with come - Dean’s, most likely. 

   He lets himself smirk before falling asleep, wrapped as he is in Cas’s arms.


End file.
